CHURCHES  MADE  KENNEDY  UNCOMFORTABLE.  Anything  That  Has  To  Do  With  Divinity  Or 

DEV PATEL in MONKEY MAN (2024)

TEEN WOLF 3.03 Fireflies

"so it sounds like you're having a good night?" even in her current state, hana's magnetism and her ability to command a room seems as prevalent as ever. even a man like vikram, who tended to navigate through spaces with a downcast gaze, can't help but have his attention on her as she weaves ( bulldozes? ) them though the crowd. his eyes are trained on white bunny ears, watching them bob in tune with the buoyancy of her steps. next thing he knows, he's settling himself into the space next to hana, sandwiched between her and another group of partygoers trying to catch the bartender's attention. hana beats them to it and while he can't really make out just what exactly she is ordering, he does manage to at least place his card down for the bartender to take. "goals for tonight?" he repeats the question slowly to give it some thought but before he can, hana takes off with her own ideas. the more animated she becomes, the more dread vik feels and suddenly his free hand clasps over hers, giving it a small, desperate squeeze.

"hana... please." it's almost a whisper, barely audible if it wasn't for the proximity. "have some mercy on me tonight. can we settle for... a dance, maybe? i don't think anybody wants to see me on top of anything." if he didn't have a fear of heights and djs, he certainly does now. "how about the goal is that i make it to midnight without wishing i would have stayed home?" there's a bit of a joke in there. somewhere. his eyes land on the drinks placed before them and is immediately weary of it as hana hands one over to him. he swears he can smell the heartburn from here. "oh, do you want to do that thing they do in movies? where they lock arms?" see, he's not a total stick in the mud! ahaha.

☾ hana is ever so grateful that vikram simply goes along with her plans. there's an internal moment of triumph whenever she manages to chip away part of the shell — even if it always seems to be temporary. ❝ perfect. 'cos i've had, like, so many shots already. gotta get you caught up, vik. morgue-a-ritas, mystery mimosas, green goblins . . . whatever will get the job done ! ❞ she shimmies her way between people at the bar with an over - zealous excuse me, pointing to something on the special drinks menu as soon as she can catch the bartenders attention. she pulls vik in too, wordlessly insistent that he take up space too. ❝ do we have any goals for tonight ? like, ummm . . . infiltrate the dj booth ? climb the tables ? ❞ hana's teasing, of course — suggesting bogus options to see the reaction they pull. no sooner do their drinks hit the bartop (a concerning shade of green) before she's pushing one glass into his hand. ❝ bottoms up. ❞

his  smile  widens  at  the  sight  of  hana  rolling  her  eyes,  always  a  sucker  for  that  type  of  banter,  especially  when  it  came  from  someone  as vivacious as  hana.  always  smiling,  always  sunny.  salvador  couldn’t  help  but  wonder  what  she  looks  like  when  she’s  annoyed.  would  she  be  the  type  to  yell  or  silently  plot  revenge?  can’t  really  picture  her  slashing  a  tire,  but  he  is  convinced  that  she  has  to  be  some  type  of  crazy  to  work  here.  to  base  her  reply  on  what  a  playing  card  has  to  say. he  was  a  sucker  for  crazy  too.  his  gaze  only  flickers  to  the  image  when  she  presents  it,  a  lazy  attempt  to  feign  interest  before  landing  back  on  hana.  “the  fool?”  he  repeats,  an  airy  chuckle  escaping  her  as  he  does.  “didn’t  even  know  they  had  a  card  named  that.  i’ll  take  it,  i  guess.”  he’s  been  called  worse.  mostly  deserved.  honestly,  she  could  have  told  him  anything  and  he  would have  accepted it. knew better than to question a woman with witchy inclinations.  “fresh  starts  and  taking  risks…  think  it’s  talking  about  you?  you  got  some  danger  attached  to  you,  han?”  he  asks,  taking  a  step  back  to  look  her  over,  as  if  he  could  find  an  answer  on  sight  alone.  “what  are  you  doing  this  weekend?” // @repentulant

☾ ⋰ hana rolls her eyes as she stands upright, although she isn't entirely annoyed. any attention is great, positive attention even better. she bites the inside of her cheek to keep an excited smile from spreading across her features. head tilts like she's heavily debating the answer. ❝ hmm... let's see what card has to say about that, yes ? ❞ she flips the card & shrieks out a little laugh : in her hands sits the fool. she can think of more than one person that would love to know the card he pulled. she turns it to him like a gift. ❝ so, this one isn't bad. it was just funny to flip around. it's all about fresh starts & taking risks. ❞ and also warns of the dangers of blind optimism & delirium, but she can tell him about that later. ❝ lucky for you, it also means yes. ❞

"UH,  HARD  DISARGEE."  kennedy  is  quick  to  refute.  they  always  found  smoking  to  be  a  nasty  habit,  convinced  it was something  only  a  masochist  would  enjoy.  they  tried  once  in  college,  shortly  after  starting  their  internship because they figured  it  would  make  them  look  and  feel   more  grown  up  in  the  room  full  of  journalistic  big-shots.  men  who  took  their  jobs  and  themselves  WAY  too  seriously.  smoking  might  not  have  stuck  with  kennedy  but  the  underlying  pretentiousness  that  came  from  it?  that  was  still  up  for  debate.   "chicken  and  waffles  with  a  side  of  lung  infection  does  not  sound  like  an  appetizing  combo  to  me."  now settled in the stool, they  turn  their  head  to  witness  the  full  display  of  soren's  theatrics,  elbows  propped  on  the  bar  in  front  of  them.  they  observe  him  carefully,  making  no  move  to  interrupt  his  performance.  a  respectful  audience,  one  that  makes  sure  to  wait  the customary  extra  beat  to  ensure  the  show  is  over  before  offering  their  reaction.  “wow."  there's  a  hint  of  a  smile  there,  perhaps  the  closest  they  have  come  since  the  news  of  the  recently  departed  –  or  rather  – recently  SNATCHED.  they  lean  ever  so  slightly  in  his  direction,  nose  scrunching  up  as if they are about to deliver some harsh news. "sounds  to  me  like  you  might just have a  little bit of an addiction there.”

location: dolly's diner time: late afternoon status: open!

something about diners. greasy leather seats. overheard secrets tangled up with the clatter of forks. bitter, often stale coffee -- unless you got lucky enough to walk in when the place was mostly empty. unlikely. the kind of place where time hangs heavy, like it got tired and sat down to rest in the corner booth. red creek felt the same, like it had long surrendered to time’s weight instead of running alongside it. no reinvention, no salvation -- just a stubborn place clinging to people like mud after rain, or maybe quicksand, tugging until they sank without a fight. soren didn't have to imagine dark things haunting its bones when its effect where already laying there, sprawled out for anyone willing to see. maybe ancient spirits seeking revenge after having their forever homes suffocated with asphalt and cement. maybe nothing at all, just the weight of a town folding in on itself, vanishing into a fog you didn’t know you’d entered until it was too late. soren wouldn't flinch if someone shattered the silence with a lynchian scream -- sinister close-ups, faces trembling under the pressure of things better left unsaid -- right there in the diner, right as he staed at his gone stale coffee. and perhaps it was his obsession with intricate stories that blurred the line with reality, but twin peaks really didn't feel like fiction anymore; it was a blueprint, a warning for places like this, where the mundane teetered on the edge of surreal, where time sagged, like peeling wallpaper in a room sealed off for too long, and good people stumbled into band endings. even diners -- those greasy churches of familiarity -- could warp into confessional booths. soren let his face fall into his hands, elbows propped at the sides of the cup of coffee. if it had been steaming, it would've made a perfect shot. “ you know what's bullshit, ” he spoke as soon as he felt a presence next to him finally glad to push his inner monologue onto someone else, anyone unlucky enough to hear. he continued as his hands dropped to his lap, revealing a face worn thin by restless nights. “ the fact that they made it illegal to smoke in public places. especially diners. ” though it wasn't just diners. it was also cinemas, trains, pubs.... a beat. then two fingers lifted to his lips, mimicking the pitch of a cigarette between index and thumb. soren inhaled theatrically, face tilting upward as though savoring the hit. then, just as theatrically, he ground the phantom amber into an imaginary glass ashtray, the kind with ornate edges. clock. sound design coming from his tongue against his palate and he swat the phantom ashtray away, still dipped in his interactive daydream.

"a pony?" that makes them chuckle, amused by nadia's imagination. they shift their gaze past her, scanning the crowd, determination etched on her features. "there has got to be someone in here dressed as a little — there." they tilt their chin behind nadia where one can barely see the head of a horse poking out from a wall of people. "okay, no pony. close enough? i could still go wrangle him for you?" they offer. a poker face not something they usually struggle to maintain but the scenario is so ridiculous that kennedy can't help but break her attempt to look serious with a smile. "good! then you're welcome. happy to be of service." finally someone appreciates their bossy attitude! "shots? nadia... are you trying to get me into trouble tonight?" cus she just might, kennedy thinks. "as long as it's not vodka. unless your gearing to carry me home tonight."

" whatever i want ? what if i want a pony ? " nadia replies , twisting one of her eyebrows up in amusement . she allows kennedy to lead the way , trusting they know the SAFEST way out , with minimum groping by strangers . " firstly , tequila is never basic . " nadia says , with a small shake of her head . " secondly , i'm glad for the dragging . " nadia says honestly . she'll never turn down a party , per se , but of late she's been more than glad to have her routine of sleeping at a reasonable time . she's almost turned anti-social , which is not something that should be synonymous with her . " two tequila sodas then . here i was thinking i could charm you into doing a shot with me . . . "

❝ 𝙸𝙵  𝙸𝙼  𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃  𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂,  𝙸  𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝚂𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰  𝙼𝙰𝙽'𝚂  𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴.  𝙳𝙾  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙰𝙽𝚈  𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙰  𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃  𝚆𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳  𝙳𝙾  𝚃𝙾  𝙼𝚈  𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺  𝚂𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂?  ❞

 // (  destiny  ryan.  non-binary.  she/they  )  . ⸻ KENNEDY  STUART  ,  a twenty  eight  year  old,  has  survived  another  day  in  red  creek  where  they  have  lived  for  eighteen  years  and  has  been  back  a  couple  of  months . THE  PRODIGY  is   known   for   being  ambitious  and calculative and  is  often  associated  with  murmured  self-affirmations,  a  creeping  curiosity,  doing  whatever  it  takes  to  exceed  expectations,  picture  perfect  smiles,  pristine  trophies  on  full  display .  in   a   small   town   where   they   work   as  a  journalist at  the  register  and  an  author,  word  travels  fast  .     it’s   hard   to   keep   a   secret   ,   and   it   looks   like   the   boogeyman  knows   that   [  REDACTED  ] 

 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝚂 | 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 | 𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁 | 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝚂 | 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙿𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝚂𝚃

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍: being the golden child, a gnawing ambition, restless nights, being a pawn in your parent’s game, the need to be ten steps ahead, doing whatever it takes, always comparing yourself to others, when will it ever be enough? 

[ Ⅰ ]  .  .  .  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 

full  name.  kennedy  noelle  stuart.  nicknames.  ken,  kenny, .  age.  28.  race.  black. nationality.  american.  birthday.  may  20th.  zodiac.  taurus.  gender.  non-binary.  pronouns.  (  she  /  they  ).  sexual  orientation.  pansexual.  birthplace.  redcreek,  michigan.  occupation.  journalist

[ Ⅱ ]  .  .  .  𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

mother  :  suzanne  stuart  herrera father  :  marcus stuart   stepfather:  jonathan  ‘jon’  herrera stepbrother:  santiago  herrera

[ Ⅲ ]  .  .  .  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓

∗  kennedy  was  marcus  and  suzanne's  last-ditch  effort  to  stabilize  the  marriage  between  a  narcissist  and  a  small  town  primadonna.  the  attempt  lasted  for  a  few  years  on  and  off  which  resulted  kennedy  having  to  spend  their  early  years  alternating  between  two  homes ∗  kennedy  was  the  spitting  image  of  the  both  of  them  and  the  two  were  painfully  aware  of  it,  pushing  the  young  kid  to  be  the  best  version  of  themselves . .  .  they  just  had  different  definitions  of  what  that  was. ∗   for  marcus,  it  was  a  sharp  mind.  days  with  him  usually  consisted  of  activities  that  involved  intellectual  improvement  -  playing  chess,  reading  books,  watching  documentaries.  as  for  suzanne,  she  preferred  more  physical  charms  -  sports  &  beauty  pageants  mostly. ∗  the  combination  resulted  in  a  kid  who's  learned  quickly  that  they  earn  most  praise  when  they  are  not  only  good  at  something...  but  better  than  expected.  a  mindset  eventually  turned  to  a  desire  at  being  the  best  in  whatever  they  set  out  to  be. ∗   in  2006  suzanne  started  seeing  a  local  man  named  jon  hererra  and  before  kennedy  had  a  chance  to  process  their  mother's  new  relationship,  they  were  asked  to  pack  their  bags  to  move  in  with  this  stranger  and  his  son,  santiago  herrera. ∗   while  kennedy's  father  was  still  in  their  life,  it  was  apparent  that  he  had  decided  to  take  a  step  back  (  no  doubt  betrayed  by  how  quickly  his  former  wife  moved  on  )  and  began  only  taking  kennedy  on  the  weekends. ∗   life  with  the  herrera's  was  different.  suzanne  had  taken  to  bragging  about  her  child's  achievements.  an  energy  that  their  stepfather  quickly  matched  .  he  became  invested  in  advancing  kennedy's  talents,  perhaps  hoping  that  their  excellence  would  rub  off  on  his  son. ∗  unfortunately,  kennedy  had  a  hard  time  relating  to  santiago.  perhaps  it  was  the  age  difference  or  the  resentment  in  their  parent's  union.  whatever  the  reason,  it  made  building  a  healthy  relationship  difficult. ∗  kennedy  tended  to  focus  on  their  academic  pursuits  instead.  editor  of  the  newspaper,  head  of  the  speech  and  debate  team,  goalie  of  the  girl's  soccer  team...  they  had  their  hands  full!  eventually  they  graduate  with  honors  and  got  accepted  at  NYU  on  a  full  ride  to  become  an  investigative  journalist. ∗   after  college,  they  booked  a  job  at  the  new  york  times  amd  became  a  travelling  journalist,  moving  from  country  to  country  to  write  pieces  about  whatever  was  relevant. ∗   during  their  travels  they  came  across  an  interesting  case  that  was  ongoing  in  italy.  there  was  a  unexpected  string  of  murders  happening  in  a  small  countryside  town  and  with  the  help  of  the  local  police  department,  it  was  determined  that  the  local  catholic  priest  was  poisoning  the  offerings  during  their  mass  and  would  either  pretend  to  heal  them  with  the  power  of  God  or  let  them  die. ∗  the  article  kennedy  wrote  didnt  garner  much  attention  but  they  were  so  invested  in  the  story  they  decided  to  write  a  book  about  it  named  'death  at  the  altar'  and  lo  and  behold  -  it  became  a  best  seller! ∗  it  was  such  a  hit  that  kennedy  had  to  take  a  break  from  their  journalistic  endeavors  to  go  on  a  book  tour.  as  exciting  as  it  was,  kennedy  found  it  awfully  tiresome. ∗  after  some  thought  and  some  nudging  from  their  mother  &  step-father,  kennedy  decided  to  take  a  break  from  it  all  and  move  back  home.  they  took  up  a  job  at  the  local  newspaper  because  they  figured  it  would  be  easy.  some  fluff  pieces  here  and  there  while  they  focus  on  their  next  big  hit.  it's  red  creek,  michigan  after  all.  nothing  ever  happens  here.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 :  a  smart  kid  who  watched  their  parents  divorce  and  was  forced  to  join  another  family  along  with  her  outrageous  mother.  left  town  as  soon  as  she  could  but  recently  decided  to  move  back  home  after  writing  a  best  selling  true  crime  novel  named  'death  at  the  altar'.r'. 

[ Ⅳ ]  .  .  .  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ───  all  connections  are  open  to  any  gender  unless  specified  otherwise.

wc  pinterest | wc  tag

[ Ⅴ ]  .  .  .  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

＋clever  ＋analytical  ＋curious －unsympathetic  －stubborn  －judgmental mbti  :  ESFJ natal  chart  :  ↑  capricorn, ⊙  taurus, ☾  cancer inspired  by  :  gale  weathers ( scream   ),  nancy  wheeler ( stranger  things ),  monica  geller ( friends )

redcreek was a small town, which meant running into him was practically inevitable, she just didn’t expect it to happen like this. inside the grim little police station, with elliot wearing a uniform they never once envisioned him in. "sorry." they dip their head with a small laugh, realizing they were hovering by the door for a moment too long, "i didn't expect to see you here. wow. deputy mayers, huh? you always were...full of surprises." the words spill out before they could stop them, a poor attempt to defuse the tension, to break the awkwardness that had already started building.

fuck, they knew they should have prepared for this. done their due diligence of unblocking him on social media to check up on his life the moment they made it back to town. now they're they were, blindsided by the sight of him. stuck between two worlds— getting down to business or slipping into memory lane. their gaze flickers to his left hand, instinctively searching for the answer to their most pressing question... had he found someone to give him what kennedy couldn't? he isn't wearing a ring, but that's not enough to give a solid answer. they quickly shift to his badge, needing something professional to anchor themselves to.

kennedy finally sits down, their back straight, a practiced composure taking over as they pull the journal from their bag. "right. alaina price." they pause. the room felt smaller now. they want to think ahead, to push past the unease in the room, but their thoughts keep drifting back to the past. to elliot. "look," kennedy sighs, allowing themselves the momentary lapse in focus. "i’m not here for… anything personal. i just need information on alaina." they aren't sure why they're even telling him this. "i know you can’t share everything right now, but anything would help. the town’s already asking questions, elliot. starting rumors. they need something to hold them over." her words hung in the air, heavy and pointed, as she searched his face for any crack that might offer a clue, a sign of what he was willing—or able—to say. it wasn’t just about the case anymore. she knew that. but right now, it had to be.

IT'S REALLY NO SURPRISE that the moment elliot comes back from his coffee break, he's nearly accosted by the office secretary barreling through his door. there's someone from the press here, and the sheriff is out, she tells him. can i bring her in ? elliot figured they both knew that demetrius probably didn't want anyone in the office speaking to press without him—least of all elliot—but he's been on the job long enough to know the answer to give : no comment at this time. " fine, " he sighs. he's sipping his coffee when there's a knock at his opened door, eyes glancing over the coffee cup as he finishes his sip—and chokes on his drink. " kennedy. " oh, fuck. he'd been doing so well not running into her, and now here she is, looking like this is the last place she expected him. at least right now, the feeling is mutual.

coffee on the table, he finds himself standing out of his chair, a jolt of adrenaline hitting him harder than the caffeine so far has. " um, take a seat, " he motions to the chair in front of his desk, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands. fuck, his uniform has never felt two sizes too big until now—not even when demetrius is giving him one of his deep sighs. " what can i do for you ? " he asks once she's sat, hesitantly sitting back down as well. maybe talking business is the way to get through this moment.

the   two   painted   an   amusing   contrast   against   the   sterile   backdrop   of   redcreek’s   pharmacy.   taylan,   fiery   and   impatient,   his   vivid   red   energy   pushing   past   vikram’s   more   solemn   blue.   "oh,   sorry."   sass   was   not   something   that   had   ever   come   naturally   to   vikram.   apologies   did.   always   something   to   be   sorry   for   when   your   dignity   is   paper   thin.   and   that’s   exactly   what   he   offers   now,   raising   a   hand   instinctively   in   submission   as   he   steps   aside.   he   had   fully   expected   their   interaction   to   end   there   so   when   taylan   speaks   again,   it   catches   vikram   fully   off   guard,   eyes   widening   as   the   other's   crude   humor   rings   in   the   air,   almost   as   loud   as   the   bell   he   was   relentlessly   pressing   a   moment   prior.

'business   is   blooming.'   vikram   clears   his   throat   at   that,   shifting   awkwardly   in   place.   “uh,   yeah,   i   suppose   it   is.”   brows   twitch   into   a   frown   at   his   own   reply.   immediately,   vikram   can   tell   this   conversation   will   be   one   he   regrets.   one   that   his   mind   will   save   into   the   memory   of   his   brain   and   safely   tuck   away   at   the   corner   of   his   mind   specifically   reserved   for   remembering   any   time   he   puts   his   foot   in   his   mouth.   for   anyone   wondering,   throwing   azi   under   the   bus   in   his   police   interview   is   stashed   away   in   there   as   well.   he   draws   in   a   sharp   breath,   trying   again,   more   composed   this   time.   “they’re   probably   at   lunch   and   forgot   to   put   up   a   sign.”   better   to   address   the   younger   man’s   actual   question   than   the   colorful   way   he   expressed   it.   “or   maybe   they   did   put   one   up,   and   we’re   both   equally   awful   at   noticing   it.”   there’s   a   hint   of   a   joke   in   his   tone   as   his   eyes   flicker   to   the   'no   smoking'   sign   hanging   in   the   crook   of   the   reception   counter,   right   above   the   forgotten   ashes   of   taylan’s   cigarette.

where : red creek pharmacy status : closed with @brntout

with a cigarette dangling between his lips and insomnia looming underneath his eyes , taylan's days and nights blend into an aching mess that he can’t ease with the pills that he takes . years of playing hockey and fighting on the ice led him to shed blood , and steal from others without repercussions . but one accident had pulled on a loose thread making everything come undone . unraveling a poorly stitched pattern that his coach attempted to stitch close over the years with the help of painkillers . no pharmacist in sight and patience running thin . rough , careless and blowing out a waft of smoke , taylan pushes past vikram and leans against the counter , disregarding the no - smoking sign as if it were mere decoration . impatiently , he presses the call bell , over and over again . ding , ding , ding , resounds and bounces against the the pharmacy walls . “ think they died ? ” toying with the cherry at the end of his cigarette , taylan burns the pad of his thumb before pressing it out on the reception desk , leaving a dark marring spot behind . “ for all we know , the boogeyman gutted them in the back , and we have one less pharmacist in this town . ” too soon . “ congrats business is blooming for you . ”